


comets & crossettes

by Anonymous



Category: A3! (Video Game), アイ チュウ | Ai Chuu (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 18:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seiya sees him in the sky and the stars and the stage; everywhere he looks it rains sakura petals and spring promise.





	comets & crossettes

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE LOVE THIS GOOD CROSSOVER SHIP
> 
> I haven't read I-Chu apart from the collab story and a couple of scattered chapters so apologies in advance for any odd characterisation moments!

He's been restless lately, looking out at the audience in search of something he still can't find the words for. He supposes Kanata and Akira have noticed too, from the way they keep looking at him with mild concern, but he doesn't know how to tell them that the fluttering butterflies in his stomach makes him feel light rather than nervous, or that the energy threatening to leap from his fingertips looks like sparks from fireworks instead of a destructive house fire. His hands shake as he swipes across his phone screen to look at the message again.

_[I'm looking forwards to it already!]_

The words have a voice of their own, as much as they’re only constellations of tiny black dots on a screen. They are alive in Seiya’s mind as he reads them, as bright and earnest as their source, and Seiya finds himself smiling helplessly at the memory of Sakuya’s warm hand on his wrist at the riverside while they practice together. _I wouldn’t miss it for the world,_ Sakuya had assured him, his solemn gaze sending sparks down Seiya’s spine.

“Are you ready to go out?” Akira asks, cutting through his thoughts. Seiya looks at the hand on his shoulder in surprise; he can’t help comparing it to the ghost of the hand he’d been thinking about just a moment earlier, and the rush of affection that swells in him at the sight is different too. Akira watches him carefully. “The curtain’s going up,” he says finally, patting Seiya once before letting his hand fall.

Harsh light begins to seep through to them from the stage. Seiya’s heart is thrumming, his body already itching to dance to the music that starts to sweep through his mind. He knows what this feeling is, at least, and how to wrangle it into something that makes the people around him laugh in wonder. He grins at Kanata, slinging his arms around him and Akira both to form a loose ring. “Let’s do this.”

 

*

 

On-stage, he forgets what it’s like to be uncertain. All the hours of practice they’ve spent in preparation lead them through the complex choreography and difficult harmonies, and most importantly Seiya loves the time he’s been gifted to do what he loves. In this group, among these people – here, at least, he knows what is expected of him, and that he can live up to, even exceed those expectations.

Off-stage, after the show, it’s a slightly different story.

He’s still flushed from the applause that follows them off. It’s natural by now to start the clean-up and cool-down with trembling hands and bright pink cheeks, to feel his heart hammering against his ribcage as he shrugs out of costume and starts to pack away his things. What’s new is how natural it feels to run to Sakuya when he appears with the security detail at the dressing room door, shuffling nervously on his feet with an enormous bouquet of flowers that seems almost bigger than him.

“You came!”

Sakuya laughs in surprise, relaxing into the embrace. “You were really amazing, Seiya-kun!” He wriggles back slightly so he can look Seiya in the eye – a gesture of sincerity, though Seiya doesn’t need it. He knows well enough that Sakuya is only ever honest in his admiration, and so he sweeps Sakuya back into his arms and nuzzles into the crook of Sakuya’s neck. It makes Sakuya giggle and squirm with what Seiya thinks is more a token protest than actual resistance. He lets go anyway, just to be sure, but then he’s dizzy all of a sudden over the sight of Sakuya pouting at him, cheeks pink as Seiya’s own, and as thoroughly out-of-breath as if he’d been with them on stage too.

Kanata is frowning at them. “Seiya, don’t do that! You’re still gross and sweaty from the show.” He sends Sakuya an apologetic look before scowling at Seiya again. “Here, Rabirabi has towels for both of you!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Seiya appreciates how Kanata always looks out for him. He turns to hug him in thanks, then remembers why that might not be the best idea; instead, he takes the proffered towels and makes himself respectable. _Then_ he hugs Kanata.

“So you’re Sakuya-kun,” he hears Akira saying from behind him. Sakuya stammers out an introduction and Akira laughs airily. When Seiya turns back, he finds Akira patting Sakuya on the head indulgently while Sakuya stares at him, wide-eyed. It probably means they’re getting along alright.

“I’m so glad you came,” he enthuses, taking the bouquet and setting it aside in favour of taking up Sakuya’s hands in his. “I know you said you would, but I’m still glad I could see you!”

Sakuya blushes deeper. “I’m happy to see you too,” he says, and the words are a gentler warmth than the lights of the stage but no less rousing. “Thank you for inviting me.” He hesitates, searching Seiya’s face. “I-I know you probably have your own plans after this, but if you were free at any point, perhaps…”

“We were planning on going out for dinner,” Akira says, sensing Seiya’s indecision, “but you’re more than welcome to join us.”

Seiya brightens immediately. “You don’t mind, Akira? You’re the best! My Romeo’s amazing, you know; I still have so much to tell you – ”

He breaks off when he feels Sakuya’s hands slip from his. “I shouldn’t intrude,” Sakuya says, looking away. “It’s important to spend time together as a group after a show.” He smiles at Seiya, and none of what he’s saying is wrong, exactly, but Seiya still feels the way he does when he slips up at practice and takes two steps to the left instead of three.

He grabs Sakuya by the sleeve. “No, I don’t want that.” Then he stops because it sounds like he doesn’t care about his groupmates, which is completely untrue; he’s just been looking forwards to Sakuya coming for weeks now, and while they could make plans for any other night Seiya wants to be with him _tonight_. “I mean, it’s not an intrusion. I don’t think it’s an intrusion; Akira doesn’t either, or he wouldn’t have invited you.”

“I don’t mind,” Kanata says. “Though, actually, we can always go tomorrow instead.”

Akira smiles at Kanata. “I was thinking the same thing myself, actually. I’m a little tired.” He chuckles, nudging Seiya. “What do you think?”

“I didn’t realise you were tired,” Seiya exclaims. “You should have told me!” They’ll definitely have to reschedule. Sometimes he forgets that Akira is older than them, even though it should be obvious given how mature he always is. Adults get tired more easily, Seiya knows. It’s part of the reason he makes sure he keeps in shape, so he can preserve his stamina for as long as possible.

Sakuya looks properly amused now, though Seiya can’t fathom why. It’s far better than the weak smile he’d been wearing, though, so Seiya decides to simply accept things for what they are.

 

*

 

Halfway through dinner, Sakuya puts down his chopsticks and blurts out, “Um, I don’t think Akira-san was actually tired.”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should say it, but I think he was pretending to be tired so we could have dinner together. I knew you probably wouldn’t be able to, but I still really wanted to spend more time with you. It must have been obvious to Akira-san...I’m sorry!”

Seiya is still trying to work through why Akira would say he was tired when he actually wasn’t. “Why are you apologising?”

This is actually a somewhat frequent occurrence. Every now and then Sakuya will begin to apologise for something he really doesn’t need to be sorry for. It leaves a bitter taste in Seiya’s mouth – not because of Sakuya himself, of course, but because of whatever it is that’s left Sakuya feeling like every minor change in plans is the result of some infraction on his part.

Sakuya bites his lip. “Seiya-kun,” he begins, “You're a wonderful person. I’ve really enjoyed talking with you and practising together. As selfish as it is, I can’t help feeling like I want to spend more and more time with you.” His hands twist together; Seiya wants nothing more than to take hold of them and straighten them out, press them flat and relaxed under his. “I know your friends are very precious to you,” Sakuya continues, “just like the everyone in the Spring Troupe is precious to me. I know you have a busy schedule too, being an idol. So...I wasn’t able to find the courage to ask you to dinner, especially not after such an important event. But I couldn’t hide my selfish desire, and as a result, you and all your friends were inconvenienced because of me, and I – ”

It’s odd. The restaurant is still full of chatter, but it comes to Seiya muffled, as if through a layer of water, and his heart is thudding loudly in his ears like fireworks going off in the summer but everything else seems to be moving in slow motion. There in the middle of the distortion, he sees Sakuya.

_Selfish_ , Sakuya is saying. Seiya isn’t the most studious person, but he thinks he’d put another word in its place. “I’ve got an idea,” he says suddenly, and caves to the temptation, sliding around the table to take Sakuya’s hands in his own and pull him out of the booth they’d been sitting at. “You’re not hungry still, are you? We can get something to go, if you are.”

Sakuya shakes his head slowly, wide-eyed and wondrous. Seiya feels _good_ knowing that he’s the one who put that look there.

He tugs Sakuya out of the restaurant and down the street, all the way to the familiar patch of grass they’ve trampled upon countless times together, the river dark and cold under the night sky. “I want to sing you a song,” he declares. “I invited you to a concert, but I didn’t even get to sing you anything properly!”

Seiya has always wanted to be an idol who can reach out to others; he is well-acquainted with the frustration and insecurity that comes with being unable to communicate his feelings to his audience. Performing for Sakuya is dizzying; here on the riverbank he’s back selling CDs that just won’t sell, and every move he makes is precious. But this time, he knows absolutely what it is that he feels, and this is the best way he can think of to show it. If he can’t reach Sakuya now, he’ll say it outright, and if that doesn’t work either he’ll simply have to work harder.

He comes to a stop with his palm pressed against Sakuya’s chest, the last notes of the song drifting away on the wind. His starlit stage melts away, and then it’s only the two of them, closer than idol and audience member would be allowed to stand.

“How was it?” he asks, breathless. Sakuya’s heart beats steadily under his hand.

_Did my feelings reach you?_

Sakuya looks directly at him, as open and honest as always. “I think,” he says, fierce light beginning to smoulder in his eyes, “that I’d like to show you a play, too.”

He presses his fingers to Seiya’s lips, transforming into the Romeo that had so enraptured Seiya the day they had met, and when he speaks Seiya feels hope taking wing in his heart, bursting into bloom in the air between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: stargazing, hanami, backstage, flower stand  
> did any of the prompts make it in? YES, IN SPIRIT, MAYBE,


End file.
